Flower Crown
by dixiemontana
Summary: There's a pureness we all have when we are younger. Then, somewhere along the way, we lose that since of innocence. We moarn its loss, but very few of us strive to get it back. We look in the mirror to stare at a stranger and wonder how we got here. I'm done wondering. I'm gonna find that girl again, and it all starts with him.
1. Chapter 1

**Flower Crown**

 **PRESENT**

The interview room was very cold. I knew that was intentional. Being cold made people uncomfortable. Hopefully, uncomfortable enough to spill their deepest darkest secrets.

"What has you smiling over there Ms. Marie?" The interviewer is a young man, probably in his early to mid-twenties, like myself. He was a nice looking man. Pretty with bright blue eyes and short wavy blonde hair.

Companies always sent males to interview me. My publicist, Angela, says it's because they consider me an equal to my male counterparts because of all my success. I find that whole notion ridiculous. Gender has nothing to do with success. I shouldn't be considered equal to a man only because I've been deemed 'successful' in their eyes.

Personal, I think they just want to see how I react to being interviewed my a man. They want a story and they're hoping I'll give it to them by either ranting about women's rights or hitting on him. When I proposed this philosophy to Angela she merely shook her head, but didn't deny it.

"Now Darren, you and I both know that I have plenty of reasons to smile." I winked at him and he chuckled. The movement on his face caused his make up to clump around his mouth, and the make up team in rushing in to fix it. I swear he has on more makeup than I do. They also came over to check me. Reapplying red lipstick that had become my signature color and making sure my thick blonde hair had just the right amount of volume and curl. They were extra careful not to touch my black dress. According to Alice, my stylist, the dress was just the right amount of sex and power.

"Okay everyone! We are live in...five….four..." The makeup team scurries off set and a man behind the camera begins the countdown. "three...two…." Darren squirms in his seat and I run my tongue over my teeth to make sure there's no lipstick present. "One!" After a pause he points to Darren.

"Good Morning Everyone! I'm here with business sensation and model Isabella Marie. Today we are going to be ask her some questions that may help up give us a better understanding of the illusive Isabella Marie." His teeth are almost too white to look at. If the light hits them just right they may blind me. "Are you ready Ms. Marie?" Darren ask.

"Bring it on." I smile brightly at him.

"Well, let's start with talking about your latest photoshoot. Now, as a model-" I put my hand up to stop them.

"I've always said that I'm not a model. While, I appreciate the compliment I can't claim to be something that I have put no effort into. Modeling is a very well respected career that takes dedication and patience. I was just a broke young girl trying to start a brand. I used the resources I had...myself." I said.

"Really? Millions of people see you as otherwise. Men and women around the world have fallen in love with your face and...body." He allows his gaze to travel up my legs and gives a suggestive smirk.

"I wouldn't call it love. Admiration, maybe."

"Spoken like someone who's never been in love." He laughs, but then raises an eyebrow at me.

"Call me crazy, but I consider love to be caring for a person, not a physical attribute." I smile at him brightly, and his smirk slips off his face.

"So, you have been in love?" He ask.

 **AGE SEVEN**

I had rode my bike up the road from Daddy Charles' house. There was a field of wild flowers off the side of the road that I had to explore. It had rained the night before so the ground was gooey and I could feel the mud squeezing its way in between my toes. My gown consisted of one of Daddy Charles' old white t-shirts that came down to my knees. My royal jewels were a variety of flower necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and one single flower crown. I was the princess of this field, and all the living things that occupied it were my subjects.

I was talking to Sir Gerald Ladybug when they drove by in a fancy car. I didn't know enough about cars at the time to identify the make or model, but it was shiny. I had learned from my Momma that shiny meant new, and new meant fancy.

The driver of the car looked like a real King. He had white hair that was elegantly styled, a royal blue shirt, and a sparkling watch that sat perfectly on his wrist while he drove. He looked at me briefly with piercing blue eye before turning back to the road. The woman next to him had to be the Queen. She was as pretty as one. Her hair was the color of copper and bronze that flowed effortlessly down her back. She wore a green blouse that accented her blue green eyes perfectly. She was breathtaking. When she caught my eye she raised her lip in a sneer and then shook her head in disgust. She must not be able to see me properly. Otherwise, she would have know that I was a princess.

They came to a stop at the stop sign by the field and that's when I saw him. He was sitting in the backseat trying to tame his wild hair that was the exact color as the Queens. Wild like flowers that surrounded me. He looked up and saw me. His emerald eyes sparkled and his beautiful face brightened into smile as he slowly waved to me. I waved back and he blushed. The Queen turn and her seat and said something to him that made him just and turn away from me, but it didn't matter. He knew I was a Princess and I had just found my Prince.

 **PRESENT**

Darrens blue eyes were staring into mine. They were sparkling with excitement. I had never mentioned anything about any of my previous or current lovers in the past. He think's he has me, but he's wrong.

"So you've been in love. Who was, or is, the lucky guy? Or girl?" He leans in, like we're sharing some sort of secret conversation between friends. Except we are on national television and we aren't friends.

"I've been in a love with a lot of things and people. I fell in love with Paris the first time I went there. I fell in love with a man in a cemetery who visited the women he loved everyday and brought her roses." Darren's nostrils flare out in frustration.

"Right, but what about romantic love? What has your experience been with romantic love?" He continues.

"There's such a need for love in the world. Why limit yourself to one type of love? Love should be shown and expressed in all forms." I smirked at his annoyance.

"I see you're as tight lipped as ever about your personal life." He tried to cover up his annoyance with a chuckle.

"Well, it is called personal for a reason." He nods and his eyes flick to someone behind me. I assume he's being told to move on because he ask the next question.

"It is indeed. Let's move on to talk about your company. You started out physically making all your own items. Correct?" He knows the answer to the question. I've spoken about my start and how I started out making my own clothing to sell in almost every interview I've ever done.

"That's correct."

"Who gave you your start?" I blink at his question, confused.

"I'm afraid I don't understand the question. I started my company myself. No one gave me anything." I try to mask my announce. This isn't the first time someone has assumed that I had assistance in starting my company. Were there people who helped me. My friends were huge contributions, but they didn't save the money needed to open my first store. They didn't work all day then come back to a shitty apartment just to make garments all night.

"I'm sorry. I'll rephrase. Who or what gave you the idea to start a business in this particular industry?"

 **AGE ELEVEN**

"Dad...They pinch! I don't like wearing 'em." I continued to run around the couch as Daddy chased me. I didn't call him Daddy Charles anymore. He said he didn't like it since I'd had similar names for my momma's boyfriends. There was Daddy Samuel, Daddy Chris, Daddy Freddy, Daddy Lorenzo, and lots more Daddy's. However, Charles was my real Daddy so he wanted me to just call him Dad. I figured that was okay since he was my real Dad and all.

"Bella Mae! That's enough! You get over here right now and put these shoes on." His mustache started to twitch so I knew he was really irritated.

I don't think I look much like my dad. Sure, he has brown hair and brown eyes, and I had brown hair and brown eyes. But, where his eyes are the color of chocolate, mine are the color of toffee. His hair was so dark it looked black sometimes, and mine was the color of mahogany. He said I got my prettiness from my Momma, along with my wild spirit. I agree with him. He's not very pretty or wild. Cops can't be wild, it's a rule or something.

"I'm not gonna do it! An you can't mak-shit!" He caught me. He threw me over his shoulder and dropped me on the couch. He glared at me, trying to scare me into not getting up again.

"You watch that mouth young lady. Ten isn't too old for me to give you a whippin'. You hear me?" I stubbornly cross my arms over my chest and nodded. He said curse words all the time. Called them 'man words' well I didn't understand why men had the rights to those words. As fars as I was concerned I had a right to any word in the dictionary, and maybe even a few not in the dictionary.

Dad threw the shoes in my lap and raised a bushy eyebrow at me in warning. Reluctantly I put my old brown boots on. They were scuffed and dirty, but I guess they went well with my purple flower print sundress.

"Good. Now, let's go. We're going to be late for church." I followed him out the door and hopped into his rusty ford truck. He says it's a classic. Kids at school joke about it breaking down, but I know it won't. Classic's last forever. That why Momma wore red lipstick, because it's classic.

Church was a new concept for me, Momma and I had never gone before, and I still hadn't quite figured out how the system worked. I saw people there and they were sort of nice, but when I saw them outside of church they pretended not to see me. One time I was outside of Sue's Diner hunting snakes, and Mrs. Cope walked clear around the parking lot to get to her car just so she wouldn't have to speak to me. Dad said that maybe she was afraid of the snakes I was hunting, but I don't think that was it. She kept looking back at me and mumbling something about 'sinful child', 'street walker', and 'just like her Momma'.

Church people loved my dad though. He's like a hero or something. Saved Mrs. Sue when her stove caught fire. He said that she wasn't in any immediate danger and that the fire was small. But, Mrs. Sue swears that her life would've ended if it wasn't for my dad. They've been dating ever since.

The whole drive to the church is bumpy from all the potholes and Dad complains about the city spending money on a new football stadium for the high school instead of making the roads safer. I turn up the radio and whistle along to Dolly Parton sing about Jolene.

Another strange thing about church is that people are always touching you. The shake your hand when you come in and when you leave. But, if you complain about something that's when things really get touchy. People start hugging you and rubbing your back and shoulder. One person says 'I have a sinus infection' or 'my dog ran away last night', and all of a sudden they become the star of their own petting zoo.

"Good evening, Bella Mae. Thank you for joining us this Wednesday." I reach my hand out and Carlisle Cullen reluctantly takes it. He still as icily handsome as he looked three years ago from that flower field. He's a deacon at the church so he had to stand at the door to greet people.

"You're welcome sir." I hold onto his hand longer than is absolutely necessary just to see his face scrunch. I've l recently earned that Carlisle is a bit of a germaphobe. Anytime he has to touch someone he doesn't consider properly sanitized his face scrunches up, and I think it's hilarious. I should probably tell him that Momma says making that face will give you wrinkles, but I don't.

"The kids are in the upstairs room for youth group." He points to the stairs in the corner.

The church had two stories. The first story held a small sanctuary in the front. A door in the back led to five other rooms. One was Pastor Billy's office, another was for choir and piano practices, the third room was for bible study, the fourth room was a small nursery and the fifth room was the largest room downstairs and housed a small kitchen along with tables and chairs for when we had church meals. Upstairs was one big open space with a pitched ceiling. Dad said that it use to be the attic, but the converted it to a youth area when he was young.

There were various tables and chairs set up at the four corners of the large upstairs room. One corner had pre-k and kindergarten children that were too old for the nursery. Another corner was for children grades 1-4. The third corner had children grades 5-8, and the last corner was for the high school kids, grade 9-12.

I was in 4th grade so I went to meet my group, and noticed a certain copper-bronze head sitting with his back to me. My heart sped up and I immediately raced over to the seat next to him.

"Hey Edward!" I reached for his hand and laced his finger through mine. He looked at our interlocked fingers and blushed. A red face shouldn't look good with his hair, but it did. Everything looked good on Edward.

"You're getting the floor dirty." Edward whispered then looked down at my boots. Some of the caked on mud had gotten knocked off my boots and was crumbling to the floor.

"So? It's a floor. It's suppose to get dirty." I smile at him causing him to blush deeper.

"Then why do people clean floors?" He asks quietly and rolls his eyes.

"Because some people can't see the beauty in imperfections." He smiled up at me and shook his head.

"Look! Edwards girlfriend is here!" Emmett McCarthy yelled out and started making kissing noises. He and Edward were both two grades ahead of me, and they were best friends. I didn't know why because Emmett was an idiot most of the time, but I smiled brightly back at Emmett anyways and gave Edward's hand a light squeeze.

"She's not my girlfriend." Suddenly Edward's hand was ripped from mine and he wiped it off on his khaki pants. That's okay, our hand were getting clammy anyways. Emmett laughed, but I just shrugged my shoulders. Edward was moody sometimes.

"Okay class. Are you ready to get started?" Mrs. Arnold was our teacher today. She's one of the only people in this town that insisted on being called by her last name. Most people were okay with just the first, like Mrs. Sue. But, Mrs. Arnold was one of the those that felt it was disrespectful for children to call their elders by their first name, even if they did put a Mrs. or Mr. in front of it.

After a round of nods and murmured 'Yes Ma'am', Mrs. Arnold informed us about our lesson. There are Bibles placed underneath all of our seats. We can't take them with us because they belong to the church. I learned that my first time here when I carried one home with me.

I reach down between my legs to the ground to grab it, but it's farther back than I thought so I have to leave down for my arm to reach. Once I have the book in my hand I remember what my dad said about ladies keeping their legs closed when sitting and immediately snap my legs together. I was at church and only ladies were allowed in church.

"Today we're going to be talking about sin, and…" She began, but Mike Newton raised his hand. "Yes, Michael?"

"Isn't it a sin to expose your privates to anyone but your husband?" He smirks at me.

"Yes. That is correct. But wha-"

"SINNER!" Mike stands up and points directly at me. He yelled so loud that all the other classes stopped and looked towards our corner.

"Am not! It's not my fault you were looking where you're not suppose to! Isn't there something in the Bible about not coveting thy neighbor. Well, he coveted my girly parts!" I pointed back at Mike. He glared at me and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"I ain't coveted nothin'. You showed them to me right here in church!" I started storming towards him but two arms pulled me back. I could tell by the smell of mint and honeysuckle that is was Edward.

"I did not!" I screamed and stomped my foot.

"Now children. Sit down." Mrs. Arnold said calmly. Edward placed me in my seat, and Mike sat down looking smug. Asshole. I wanted to rip even one of his blonde hairs out. Mrs. Arnold turned to Mike. "Michael, just because you see a girl's under….under….underthings, does not mean she's a sinner. I'm sure it's simply an accident." Mike violently shakes his head back and forth.

"Nuh uh! She ain't got no underwear on!" Mrs. Arnold turns to me and starts opening and closing her mouth like a fish. It's clear she isn't quite sure what to say, so I figured I would explain the whole situation to her so she would understand better.

"UGH….Mrs. Arnold! I can explain!" I threw my hands up in the air and stood. "You see, I don't like the underwear I have. It's ugly. Dad took me to the mall and I saw these picture ladies in the windows and they were wearing all kinds of really pretty underwear. So I asked Dad, 'Can I have underwear like that?' and he said 'Hell no! That's the kind of thing women wear when they're married'. Well, I'm not married so I can't wear the underwear I want, but I don't like the kind I have, then I'm just not going to wear any at all." I put my hands on my hips and proudly smiled back at Mrs. Arnold.

She was doing that fishy thing.

A few of the older kids laughed, but the younger kids in the rooms had been laughing on and off since they heard the words 'girly parts' and 'underwear'.

"Whatever. She was just practicing. Everyone knows she's gonna be just like her Momma. Whoring around and spreading her leg for every-" Mike didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before I punched him in the nose. I felt it crunch beneath my knuckle and I knew I had broken it. Good. He deserved it.

"Oh My God! Oh My God!" Mrs. Arnold kept repeating. I think I heard someone from one of the other groups saying they were going to go get help. Mike was clutching his nose and screaming in pain. The fact that his screams sounded like a little girl made me laugh. Then I realized there were actual girls screams too because of all the blood that was gushing from Mike's face.

"Calm down. It's just blood." I touched one of the screaming girl's shoulder like the adults do when they're trying to calm someone in church. Kate, I think that was her name.

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" She shoved my hand off her shoulder. That's when I realized my hand had blood on it and I had just gotten it all over her white blouse. "Mrs. Arnold! Help!"

"GET OUT!" Mrs. Arnold screeched while she glared at me. Her face definitely doesn't look good that shade of red. "GET OUT NOW! AND DON'T COMEBACK!"

I looked over at Edward, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. He just stared at his interlocked hands in his lap.

"Fine." I shoved past him and walked calmly to the door. All around me there was chaos. Either people were laughing or shocked, but all of them were watching me. I could feel their eyes on me, and for some reason I felt the need to remain completely calm. I wouldn't let them see me break. I wouldn't let them see me care, because then they win.

I hide behind Dad's classic Ford pickup and finally allowed myself to break. Water flows from my eyes faster than I can wipe. Eventually, I just give up trying and let the tears come.

"Bella! Bella!" I hear my dad's urgent voice and fast footfalls. Sounds like he's running. I peek out from behind the truck to make sure no one else is around before stepping out.

"I-I-I'm...r-ri-right...her-here." I say in between sobs. Once he sees me he sprints over to me and lifts me up so I can bury my face in his neck. I didn't think it was possible for me to cry harder, but I was proven wrong in that moment.

"Shhh….Shhh… It's okay." He strokes my hair and kisses the side of my head. "Let's go home."

He opens the passenger door and slides me inside before going around to the drivers side. After a few tries the truck roars to life and we speed out of the church parking lot.

The whole ride home I rest my head on Dad's shoulder and he wraps an arm around me to pull me in close. When we're about halfway home he whispers "I'm sorry Bella Mae. I'm so sorry."

"Do you think it's true? What Mike said?" I ask once I've calmed down enough to speak coherently. "Am I really going to be like…. _that_ , when I'm older?"

"You're going to be whatever you want to be. But, no, I don't think you'll ever be like that."

"But Momma was?" I ask. There's a long pause before he responds.

"Your mother is someone who made people feel something. Love. Hate. Jealousy. Happiness. Sadness. No one was ever indifferent towards your mother and it was because she was simply herself. She never tried to alter herself to fit into some box these people felt like she should be in. She did what felt right to her at the moment. Some may call that impulsive, but I prefer to think she was brave. It's hard for some people to..."

"See the beauty in imperfections." I finish for him and smile up at him.

"Thats right Sweetie." He kisses the top of my head and smiles down at me.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't wanna go back there again."

"You don't have to." There's a long silence before I spoke again.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

The next day Dad comes home with one large and one small box stacked on top of each other.

"What's that?" He sits the boxes down on the coffee table in front of me. I sit up from the couch and begin opening the smaller of the two boxes first. Inside there were six rolls of fabric in six different colors. Blue, purple. Black, gray, green, and pink. The larger box contained a second-hand sewing machine.

"I figured, if you don't like the underwear you have; then, I guess, you're just going to make some." Dad explains. I immediately jump up and throw my arms around him.

"Thank you Dad!" My mind started flowing with ideas. I wonder if i could use the fabric to make multi-colored underwear, or maybe I could put a design in them. I need some lace. Is there like a lace store or can you get lace at Newton's Store? I had never seen lace there before, but I've never really looked either.

"Just make sure you wear them." Dad gives me a pointed look before smiling and kissing the top of my head.

"I will. I promise! Eeeeeeckkkk…..." I let out an excited squeal before grabbing my boxes and dashing upstairs. I had some sewing to do, these jeans were starting to chafe my girly bits.


	2. Chapter 2

**Flower Crown**

 **AGE THIRTEEN**

I gently put one foot on the floor. I start with the tip of my toes then slowly put all the weight on my right foot. I try to lift up my left leg and bring it over the window sill without losing my balance. In order to do so, I have to shift my body and slowly bring my leg into the room. Once both feet are firmly planted, I creep towards the bed. Careful not to step on the floorboards I know crack.

He has thrown the covers off in his sleep and is facing away from me. I can see the smooth skin of his back rippling over firm muscles, until his skin disappears under his pajama pants. He use to not wear them to bed, but has ever since I started coming. It makes me sad that he feels like he should cover himself around me. I love all of his skin. Even the parts he says I shouldn't touch yet.

I told Sue about how I wanted to touch him once, and she smacked my face. She said that I shouldn't talk about such sinful acts, and that I needed to stay away from that nice, wholesome boy and his family. They didn't want someone like me around. Dad got really mad at her for that, and they broke up. Again. They break up a lot, Sue and Dad. They get back together a lot too, but only after Sue apologizes to me. She never means it, but I accept it anyways. Dad is sad when she's not around. I can deal with her if she makes Dad happy.

I make my way to the other side of the bed. I take off my white tank top and shorts, and find one of his practice jersey's on the floor and pull it on. It smells like him and that makes me smile. I lift up the covers and quietly crawl underneath.

I can tell the moment he wakes up because his breathing changes and her reaches out for me. His hand grazes the skin of my hip before he jerks his hand back.

"I told you, in my bed, you were pants." He opens his eyes, and they almost have a green glow to them.

"I have on underwear." I giggle.

"That's progress, I guess." He smiles, but rolls on his back so his body is angled away from me. His white gold crucifix glistens on his chest from the moonlight. I reach over and hold it in my hands, running my fingers other the cross. I snuggle in closer to his side and to get a better grip on the necklace.

"She's there again." I say.

"Chief's working late again?" I look up at him and nod. He's silent for some time, as if he's putting a lot of thought into what he's going to say next.

"She's a bitch." I snort and he smiles down at me before kissing the top of my head. "You want to talk about it?"

I didn't really want to talk. It was when I was with him, like this, that the voices stopped. That the whispers I heard from people all day, but pretended not to hear, finally go away. There are no quiet words like 'slut', 'whore', 'crazy', or 'just like her Mama' being whispered in the backgrounds of my thoughts. With him, it was just a calming silence inside my head, and I could finally breathe.

"I just...don't know how to be what they want me to be." I know he understands more than most people. He didn't know how to be the person his dad wants him to be either, but he was so much better at pretending than me.

I look over at his bedside table. There's a picture of him and Kate from the 9th grade dance last year. She's wearing a pretty pink knee-length dress with thick straps and white ballet flats. Her arms are wrapped around his right arm, and she's leaning up to kiss his cheek. Her long blonde hair flows down her back in perfect ringlets. He stands next to her in a white dress shirt, pink tie, and khaki slacks. He is smiling in the picture. Behind Kate and him stand their parents. Each look like a perfect set of statues with perfect smiles, perfect hair, and perfect posture.

"Why can't I be more like that?" I hadn't even realized I had said it out loud until the words were out of my lips. He followed my gaze and pushed the picture so it fell back and I could no longer see the image inside the frame.

"You don't want to be like that." He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me.

"No. I do." I break out of his embrace and prop myself up on my elbow to lean over him. "Do you know how much easier my life would be if I could just be normal? How much easier my dad's life would be if I could just blend in?"

"Stop." He brushed his thumb against my cheek, and I realized I was crying. "You're letting them get to you. Sue, Mrs. Cope, Kate, my parents, all of them. They don't know you. They do not get to define you."

"But, what if they're right." I whisper. He pulls me to him so I'm breathing into his neck. My legs move to either side of his hips. I can feel something poking the inside of my thigh and I know it's him, but he doesn't mention it.

"They're not." He whispers in my ear over and over again until I'm calm again. Then he strokes my back and tells me a story. A story about a girl he saw from the backseat of his parents car. She was playing in a field of wildflowers behind his house.

 **PRESENT**

"Ms. Marie. Ms. Marie." I wake to the sight of a gray hair flight attendant cautiously shaking my arm. "We've landed." I nod, and wipe my eyes with the palms of my hands. They come back wet.

I close my laptop and take my time getting my things together. The flight attendant stands in the aisle, smiling politely. I'm sure she wishes I would just hurry up and get my stuff so she can get off the plane, but I'm in no hurry. Once I get off this plane, it's real. I'm really here.

Once my laptop is placed back in my carryon. I open my compact to check my make-up. I re-apply my red lipstick, and fluff my blond hair. The flight attendant shifts her weight, letting me know she's still there, waiting. With a sigh I check my area once last time to make sure I'm not forgetting anything. Finally, leaving the plane can no longer be avoided, and I make my way past the flight attendant.

"Welcome to Atlanta." She says as I pass her. I wonder if she notices the slight pause in my step or the way my shoulders tense. I don't acknowledge her and continue walking.

The Atlanta airport, like most airports, is a sea of confusion combined with a sea of indifference. All around there are people with sports hats and shirts that seem to be lost, while people in more sports hats and shirts stare intently at their phone.

I keep my head down, and push my sunglasses up my nose. The last thing I needed is to be recognized. Why did I agree to this? I should've just flown private with Alice and Angela.

"Hey B." As soon as I hear the smooth rasp of her voice a smile spreads across my face. I turn and there she is. Rosalie King. I run to her.

As soon as I collide with her I feel myself let out a breath that I hadn't known I'd been holding. Suddenly, being here, in Atlanta, was worth it. She still smelled the same, like strawberries, vanilla, and baby oil all mixed together. I had missed her so much.

"Ro." I give her a tight squeeze then step back to take a look at her. Her hair is a lavender-gray color styled in a high ponytail, she has her signature winged eyeliner and mascara, but other than that her face was make-up free. She chose a black tank top, minus the bra, to show off her two favorite purchases. I noticed she was still wearing her nipple piercings. A variety of different flowers we inked down her left arm creating a rainbow of colors. I felt a pinch in my chest that I hadn't felt in years when I saw the yellow daisy. She completed her look with a pair of tight black pants and black leather heeled boots that came over her knee.

She curls the fingers on her right hand so that only her pinky is standing and tattooed going up her smallest finger is a black and white bumble bee. I do the same with my right hand so she can see the black and white rose tattooed on my pinky.

"You look like shit." She says.

"I missed you too." I laugh. She smiles and I see water in her eyes, but she looks away quickly. When she turns back to me she's completely composed.

"What the fuck did you do to you hair?"

 **AGE FOURTEEN**

"Happy Birthday Bella." He was the only person that called me Bella. Everyone else called me Bella Mae. I like Bella better, especially when he says it. He lips briefly touch mine before he starts to pull away, but I am not having that. I thread my fingers through his hair and continue kissing him. He groans when I touch my tongue to his, but a second later he turns his head.

"It's my birthday. Can't I have real kisses?" I do my best sexy pout that I had seen done in the magazine. He laughs and kisses my forehead. I huff in annoyance which only makes him laugh more.

"I did give you a real kiss." I roll my eyes and he laughs again. "I, uh, have something for you." He shift his weight nervously and eventually leans on the tree next to him. We're at the place we first met, the wildflower field behind his parents house. We're standing right where his parents land and the field meet.

"A present?" I ask and rock onto the tips of my toes in excitement. He pull out a small velvet box and places it into my eager hands.

"It's not much. It's all I could afford without alerting my dad." He scratches the back of his head nervously.

Inside the box was a pair of perfect tiny gold cross earrings. They were simple and not much larger than my pinky nail, but to me they were perfect.

"Do you like them?" He ask. I had no words to describe how much I like them. He took my silence to mean something else. "I knew I should've gotten the other pair. It's just, you like my necklace so much. I thought-" I silence him with a kiss, but he wasn't expecting it so he loses his balance and falls backward.

"Are you okay?" I kneel on the ground beside him.

"I'm fine." He smiles up at me and the air around me feels electrified. "I guess you like them."

I leaned over him and kissed him deeply. His hands went to my waist, but never moved.

"I love them." He shook his head before leaning up for a quick kiss.

"I love you. Did you know that?" He ask as he brushes a stray hair off my cheek that had fallen from my braid.

"I love you. Did you know that?" I repeat back to him. He laughs and shakes his head.

When I kissed him this time, I knew very much what would happen. I could feel it in the air. We broke apart and I pulled my Rolling Stones t-shirt over my head revealing my latest creation. A dark navy, all lace bustier with a hot pink ribbon bow in the front.

"Wow." His eyes were wide. I knew that I was more developed than most girls my age. Sue said it was because I was born with sin inside me. Dad said it was just a phase and the other girls would catch up eventually.

I place my hand on his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. I grab his hand and place just above my breast, over my heart. The beats are the same. I pull his hand lower.

"We don't have to." He says as he swallow and takes a deep breath.

"Please." I say, but I can hear my voice crack and the tears form in my eyes. "Please." I repeat as the first stream starts it voyage down my cheek.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He cups my cheeks with his hand.

I see a swirl in my mind of thick mustaches, red lipstick, black hair, and typed letters. There's faces I wished I could see the same as before, and things I wish I could never see again. It's spinning and turning, and then I can hear them. The people in the town. I can hear the words they say, but the ones they don't say are even louder. The sneers, ignorance, glares, and scuffs. It's all a blur in my head.

"Shhh….Shhhh….." He pulls me down to him so we are both laying on the ground. I imagine we were probably smashing a few of our flowers. Our flowers. Our field. He smells like dirt and grass. I love that smell.

New images fill my head. Pictures of a green eyed boy chasing me around the field, catching fireflies with me to put in jars. We both cried when they died. Dancing in the rain to music we made up in our heads. Making gift of bouquets for each other only to later realize we included poison ivy in our gifts. He snuck into my window every night covered in ointment to play G.I. Joe Saves Barbie.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He ask once I've calmed down.

"I just wanted someone to want me." I say once. "I wanted to know what it felt like."

"Hey!" He turns my face to him. His eyes ignite with determination. "I want you. Okay?"

I try to turn my head away, but he won't let me.

"I. Want. You." He says sternly.

"But, Kate-"

"Kate, is not you." He brushes his thumb across my cheek. "I want you. Okay? Only you."

I nod my head.

"Say it." He commands. I shake my head and he tickles my sides causing me to giggle. "Say it."

"You-" He gives my sides another tickle and I giggle some more before pushing his hands away.

"Say my name and your name."

"he Anthony Cullen wants Bella Mae Swan." I say with a smile.

"And?" He raised an eyebrow and smirks at me.

"Only Bella Mae Swan." I give him a quick kiss on the lips. He presses his forehead to mine and rubs his hands up my sides.

"Now and forever, until death do us part." He smiles up at me with a dreamy look in his eyes, that I'm sure I mirror.

Magic is the only word I can think of that can accurately describe how I felt in that moment. The air around us was alive and electric. I felt like my entire body had been touched by fireflies. The world around me looked brighter and happier. It was just us. he and I. In our field with our flowers. Nothing else mattered or existed.

People say I was too young. That fourteen was too young to be involved with a boy in _that_ way. Maybe they're right, but I can't make myself regret it. All I have to do is think back to that night and that moment. I felt at peace and at home for the first time. I felt like I belonged.


End file.
